


But soft, what light through yonder window breaks?

by aradinfinity



Category: Magic: The Gathering
Genre: Afterlife, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, probably eventually slice of life, that last god is just mentioned, there's a heavy dose of headcanoning here for everyone tho
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-07-09
Updated: 2017-07-09
Packaged: 2018-11-29 20:08:08
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,206
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11448144
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/aradinfinity/pseuds/aradinfinity
Summary: In the Hour of Devastation, the gods of Amonkhet are dead. Then what happens? This explores.





	But soft, what light through yonder window breaks?

Oketra stood in a forest.  
She didn't recognize this place, didn't know how she'd gotten here. It unsettled her, though. The trees were taller than her, which was rare, and so thick that she couldn't see the sky, which was unheard of. She still had her bow, though, and her quiver was full of arrows.  
Oketra set off. Her footsteps were quiet on the soil. It wasn't until the third pool of water she passed that she realized forests should probably be louder than this; Rhonas' monument always had been. Imperceptibly, Oketra became more alert, her pointed ears lifting lightly. She shook her head, the golden strip hanging above it that was ordinarily so comforting seeming like a glaring indicator of her presence here.  
She stalked through the woods, hunting for the cause of the silence. Someone called her name, and she started, turning; then Hazoret barreled into her, pulling her into a tight hug. Oketra hesitated, then pulled away softly. Her sister let her.  
Hazoret was a bit taller than Oketra, but the main difference between the siblings was their golden heads. While Oketra's was that of a cat, Hazoret's was a jackal's, bright blue eyes set like gemstones in the living metal; she had a ring of gold behind her ears, a mark of her divinity, and she trailed the hand that wasn't holding her spear down Oketra's arm needily.  
“What are you doing here, sis?” Oketra asked. “And where are we, anyway? I don't remember coming here...”  
“I'm here for the same reason as you,” Hazoret told her. “I'm not entirely certain where this is, but we were lied to about it, I think. And I shouldn't tell you why we're here if you don't remember, more than likely. What do you last remember?”  
Oketra shook her head. “I remember... the Hours were approaching. It was about two days before the Second Sun reached its destination, and there were these strangers...”  
“The interlopers,” Hazoret agreed. “One of them, the one that took to you, attempted the Trials.”  
“That's right,” Oketra said. “But then what happened? Why are we here? These trees, they're unnaturally tall. Did we come to quell that?”  
“Actually, I think we're unnaturally short,” Hazoret said, looking to the side. “As for why we're here... the God-Pharaoh arrived.”  
Oketra blinked. “I think I'd remember that,” she said.  
“You... weren't there.” Hazoret drooped slightly. “It was just me and Bontu.”  
Oketra frowned. “What about Rhonas and Kefnet? What could be more important than-”  
Hazoret held up a hand. “Please, Oketra. I don't want to talk about it. Maybe as we walk, you'll remember?”  
“Okay,” Oketra said. “Something bad must have happened... I'm sorry I wasn't there to help.”  
Hazoret reached for her hand, holding it tightly. “We're here now,” she said, and left it at that. Oketra let her sister do that, then sighed and pulled her into another hug.  
“It's obvious you're not feeling the best,” she said. “You know I'm here for you, Hazoret. I want to help.”  
“I know,” Hazoret said quietly. “And I appreciate it. It's just that... a lot of things happened, and I don't want you to look at me differently.”  
Oketra hummed lightly. “Okay. I won't push. But you know you'll have to tell me eventually.”  
Hazoret nodded. “For now, let's look for the others.”  
“They're here?”  
“I think so. We're here, and we should have all wound up in the same place.”  
They walked, hand in hand. Oketra was still wary, but she found Hazoret's presence comforting. She wasn't alone here. She had her sister, and they would protect each other. They always had before. And that was enough for her.  
Soon enough, they came across someone. But not someone Oketra recognized. They were huddled on the ground, holding their legs to their chest, looking at nothing. They were slim and androgynous, their head golden, with a long braid of hair that terminated in a scorpion stinger. Pincers tastefully adorned their head, and they didn't look up as Hazoret approached quietly.  
Oketra hesitated. “Hazoret?” she whispered. Her sister looked at her. “Why do they make me nervous?”  
Hazoret paused. “It's part of the stuff you don't remember,” she decided finally. The other god didn't move, not until Hazoret laid a hand on their shoulder; they started, looking up at her.  
“Hazoret?” the scorpion god asked.  
“Oh, thank goodness,” Hazoret breathed, then leaned down and curled her arms around them. “I was worried you wouldn't remember me.”  
The scorpion god shook their head. “How could I not? You're all... Oh. If you're here...”  
“Yeah,” Hazoret agreed. She straightened up, glancing over her shoulder at Oketra. “Oketra doesn't remember, though. So we're looking for Bontu.”  
The scorpion god's brow furrowed. “Why?”  
“She helped me remember, back during the Hours. Come on, let's get you on your feet.”  
The scorpion god let themself be pulled up. They were a little shorter than Oketra, and she found herself fingering her bow. “Hazoret?” she asked. “Who is this?”  
Hazoret glanced at them, then growled. “I can't remember your name, sib, I'm sorry. He blocked our memories of you.”  
The scorpion god shook their head. “I don't remember it either,” they admitted. “I've been here a long time...”  
“They're a friend,” Hazoret decided. “Another sibling. One we've forgotten.”  
“How could we have...” Oketra saw Hazoret's mouth tighten, and sighed. “Hours. I see. In that case...” She took a few steps forward, inspecting the scorpion god quizzically. “I'm sorry I forgot you,” she said. “I'm finding it difficult to trust you for some reason, but I'm sure that if I get to know you again, that will pass.”  
The scorpion god smiled, tilting their head down. “You're too good to me,” they said softly.  
“Ridiculous,” Hazoret decided. She took Oketra's hand again, giving it a reassuring squeeze. “Shall we keep going?”  
The scorpion god was quiet. Oketra watched them out of the corner of her eye as they walked, watching that tail- one sting might not kill, but it would cripple. She frowned. How had she known that?  
“So,” Oketra started, “Bontu helped restore your memories, huh?”  
Hazoret nodded. “We were kind of fighting at the time. I'm not sure whether she was trying to help me, or slow me down... probably both, knowing her.”  
Oketra stopped in her tracks. “You and Bontu were fighting? Why?”  
Hazoret paused, looking down. Eventually, she said, “The God-Pharaoh ordered her to kill me.”  
The scorpion god spat on the ground. Oketra was aghast. “ _What?_ ” she asked. “And she just- she just did it? What was going through her-”  
Hazoret raised her hand. “We were the only two left. Once I remembered, I wasn't going to be working for him. One of us should have survived, to protect and guide our people. And with the Hekma down...”  
Oketra frowned. “But you clearly survived. And you say Bontu is here. Wait, why wouldn't you serve him if you remembered?”  
Hazoret lifted her head, and it seemed to Oketra that she was trying very hard not to cry. “Because everything taught about him was a lie. Can you remember before he left, Oketra? I can. Bontu helped me.” She turned back to the two of them. “The Hekma was not his invention, it was ours. The afterlife was false. Our people died in our Trials for _nothing._ My- my children, my siblings, we all died.” Her hands tightened on her spear, and the air around her shimmered even as tears streaked down her snout, dropping to the ground. “When the usurper arrived, he rained hellfire upon our people. He warped us, warped our home to suit his needs, and when the Hours arrived he returned to destroy us.” She took a step closer. “You're uncomfortable around our sibling because _he_ used their body to kill not just you, but our brothers as well. And I slew my beautiful,” Hazoret heaved a breath, “my darling children, time and again, for a fucking _lie._ ” She shuddered, then turned abruptly and ran away.  
Oketra pursued her, but Hazoret had always been faster. She jinked through the trees and vanished, feet much steadier than Oketra's. The cat headed goddess slowed to a stop, looking back. The scorpion god stood where they'd been left, and as she watched, they slowly sank to their knees, then curled back up.  
She approached them, then sighed. They looked up at her. “We're dead, then,” Oketra said. The scorpion god nodded. Oketra shook her head. “Come on,” she said. “We're going to find our sister.”

Hazoret ran. She didn't know where she was running to, just where she was running from. She was running from Oketra's eyes. They'd been wide, shocked; not disbelieving, but she felt that would quickly turn to anger. After all, Hazoret had been the cause of death for everyone on Amonkhet who had made it past all the other dangers. And she hadn't seen any of them here. None of her champions had made it, she knew; she'd slain enough to fill the world over.  
Hazoret wasn't watching where she was going, and tripped on a root. She lay where she fell, curling up on the ground, sobs wracking her frame as her hands curled over her ears.  
She didn't deserve to be a god. She didn't deserve to share her afterlife with her siblings. Hazoret felt that she deserved oblivion, and it had been denied to her.  
After a time, her sobs quieted. She just laid there. Then a hand placed itself on her shoulder, and she looked up, sniffling.

Kefnet didn't look up when Oketra and the scorpion god entered his grove. He was studying a pool of water, scratching something in the dirt of its bank. He clucked to himself, then rose, dusting off his robes; his staff found his hand, and finally he looked at them.  
“Oketra,” he said. “And... who's this?”  
“A friend,” Oketra said. “Kefnet, can you help us find Hazoret? She's not herself.”  
Kefnet frowned. “What do you mean?”  
Oketra shook her head. “She walked with me for a while, then told me some things and ran away. I'm worried about her.”  
“What did she tell you?”  
The scorpion god stepped forward. “Do you know why you're here?”  
Kefnet's frown deepened. “No,” he admitted, sounding like he was pulling teeth. “But I'm going to find out.”  
Oketra placed her hand on his arm. “Kefnet,” she said softly, “we're dead.”  
Kefnet looked at her. Then he said, “You're playing a trick on me, aren't you?”  
“What? No,” Oketra said, withdrawing her hand.  
“Who put you up to this? Hazoret? I know she just loves messing with me,” Kefnet seethed. “Or was it Bontu? Maybe an initiate who didn't like my Trial? Well-”  
Oketra cut him off before he could launch into a tirade. “Kefnet, it wasn't any of those. It's not a trick. It's what Hazoret told me, and she seemed convinced.”  
Kefnet froze. He sighed, leaning on his staff as his wings relaxed. “... I guess. But if this is the afterlife, why don't I remember dying?”  
“It happened suddenly,” the scorpion god interjected. “In your... Hours, Oketra called them, things did not go as planned. The Luxa turned to blood, three undead, forgotten gods stalking the streets... me among them. I fought Rhonas first. He nearly won, but the- the hatred, the sickness animating me, made me fight. He thought I was down, but then I attacked, and he couldn't parry.” They hadn't looked up. “He died. You all scattered, and I fought you, Kefnet, and you, Oketra. You slew me, and that would have been it, except-” Their fists balled. “Except I just couldn't let you win. It was against my purpose. I reformed, and slew you from behind. Oketra, you died protecting Rhonas' vizier. I don't know her name, but she was wearing his colors, and riding a basilisk.”  
There was a pause. Kefnet blinked. “Hapatra,” he said at last.  
“What?” Oketra asked.  
“Hapatra. That's the name of Rhonas' vizier.” He shook his curved head, the head of a crane, wings folding behind him. “If that's true, then... What of the God-Pharaoh? Had he not arrived?”  
“Not then,” the scorpion god said.  
“The other thing Hazoret said before she ran was blasphemy,” Oketra said.  
“What?” Kefnet looked at her.  
“She said that the God-Pharaoh hadn't built the Hekma. She said he had twisted Naktamun, rather than giving it to us.”  
“... She really isn't herself,” Kefnet said. “She was always the first to punish speaking against him before. What happened?”  
“She remembered,” the scorpion god said.  
Kefnet glanced back at the pool. “Okay,” he said. “I'll help you find her.”

“Hey, siz,” the locust god said, squatting beside Hazoret. “What'zz the matter?”  
She sighed. “I don't want to explain it again,” she said.  
He tilted his head, mandibles rubbing together. The main difference between him now and when she'd last seen him was simple; his head was golden. His eyes were large, too, more inquisitive, and he moved more naturally. “Szo,” he decided, “you muzt have said it to zomeone elze firzt. You know I'm not the bezt at comforting, but seriouzly, you zhouldn't cry like that.”  
Hazoret chuckled weakly. His voice was surprisingly nasal. She rolled onto her back, and he wiped her cheek off helpfully. “It's just... since you left, things went to shit.”  
He furrowed his brow. “Did they? I remember fighting Kefnet, for zome reazon,” he said vaguely. “But that waz pretty rezent. And I'm zure you all could take me, no problem. Just bam, pow, like a locuzt hitting an arrow. Iz thiz getting through to you at all?”  
Hazoret sighed again, though she couldn't help but smile a little. “I didn't realize how much I missed you until I found you again.” She leaned up, pulling him into a tight hug.  
“I found you, siz,” he pointed out cheerily. “And perzonal zpace, uh, when you can.”  
They stayed like that for a while, until Hazoret pulled back. “Thanks,” she said. “And sorry.”  
“Hey, no worriez,” he said. He handed her her spear, then helped her to her feet. “It'z zeriouzly nice to zee you again. It'z been way too long zince I've zeen anyone but the bozzman.” He rolled his eyes. “Talk about yakking your earz off!”  
“Tongue in cheek, I assume,” Hazoret smiled.  
“Obviouzly. How've you been? Azide from dead.”  
“Not so good,” Hazoret said. “Everyone else is dead too, and I was the last.”  
“Hey, even Oketra?”  
“Everybody's dead,” she said again.  
He chewed on this. “How about Kefnet? You're zaying I actually killed him or zomething?”  
“Everybody is dead, bro.”  
“Okay, let'z not meme thiz,” the locust god said. “Damn. I wazz hoping zomeone'd zurvived. Our people need protecting.”  
Hazoret nodded. “I don't know for sure,” she said, “but I think Bolas killed our children.”  
“That'z harsh,” the locust god said, frowning for the first time. “Did anyone even figure out what hiz deal waz?”  
Hazoret shook her head. “Bontu, maybe,” she said. “But she didn't get the finicky details.”  
He shrugged. “Oh well,” he said. “Hey, wanna go meet the bozzman? There'z zomething you might be able to help with.”  
“Lead on, brother,” she told him.

Rhonas stalked his siblings.  
His feet were silent on the grass. He'd been drawn by the noise of Oketra and Kefnet talking- loud, in this quiet place. His staff lay against one shoulder, and he'd been intending to interject, but then he'd seen the scorpion god.  
So instead, he'd watched, and listened. Hazoret had apparently told Oketra they were dead, which hurt Rhonas' heart; he'd hoped his would be the only death. He remembered past that, though. He remembered before the usurper had come. And he remembered his sibling, the scorpion god.  
They were quieter than they had been in life. Dour, almost. Rhonas remembered that his sibling had talked often, when they were alive; they had been a protection god, and he'd searched the desert for threats with them more than once.  
So he watched, and listened. Now, Oketra was saying: “Are you sure she's this way?”  
Kefnet bobbed his head, irritated. “I've had to track her more than once, when she's been late returning on her expeditions. This spell works.” A beam of light shone from his staff, small, pointing in the distance; it changed, and his path changed with it, or they had to go around trees. “Trust me. We'll find her.”  
“Okay,” Oketra said. “I trust you. I'm just... worried.”  
“I know,” Kefnet said. “You always worry, sister.” He sighed. “I'm not the best at reassurances, but we'll find her, and we'll talk to her, and she'll see that whatever she was afraid of, we're there for her and love her.”  
There was a pause. The scorpion god turned, their eyes meeting Rhonas's; they paused, frowning, then split from Oketra and Kefnet, walking at a diagonal. Rhonas hesitated, then followed them.  
“You don't normally go in for saying those kinds of things,” Oketra noted finally.  
“It's a rather extreme occasion,” Kefnet said. “I think she'll be reassured by it, knowing her. Besides...” He sighed heavily. “She's annoying, sometimes, but I do love her. I just wish she'd take things more seriously. Just, not like this.”  
Oketra nodded. Then she said, “Wait. Something's not right.” She turned, then blinked. “Did you see the scorpion god go off?”  
Kefnet heaved a long-suffering sigh. “Let's find Hazoret first,” he said tiredly. “Then we'll find them.”

Hazoret stepped into a grove. The locust god clicked behind her. The grove was pale, almost drained of life; dominating the area was a deep blue sarcophagus, clear almost like crystal. Its ridges and whorles gave it texture, but the blue just tinted the being within; the scarab god, tall and lanky. One hand held a large, golden khopesh, over their chest, and the other clutched a staff. The orb held on the tip poked out of the sarcophagus, set above their head. Hazoret started. There was someone else in the grove.  
“Bontu?” she said.  
The crocodile-headed goddess looked up, then cringed. “Oh, Hazoret,” she said. She lifted her staff lightly.  
Hazoret lowered her spear, striding into the clearing, and panic flashed in Bontu's eyes. The crocodile goddess backed up, but Hazoret intercepted her, tackling her in a tight hug. “Bontu!” she said. “I missed you so much!”  
Bontu blinked, then slowly lowered her arms, patting Hazoret awkwardly. “You... Um. You're not mad about the...?”  
Hazoret shook her head. “Whatever,” she said. “I understand why. It's in the past. You're my sister.”  
Bontu looked helplessly at the locust god, who shrugged, perching on the sarcophagus. She turned back to the dog-headed goddess who was currently nuzzling her. “Well,” she said. “It was still inappropriate, and I'm sorry.”  
Hazoret hesitated. “I won't say it didn't hurt, because it did,” she said. “But we're all here now. Maybe... Maybe we can be more than our mistakes, here. Maybe this afterlife will let us be a family again.”  
Bontu chuckled. “Maybe. I think Oketra's rubbed off on you some, sister.”  
“Don't I wish,” Hazoret laughed. She finally pulled away, wiping a tear, and Bontu looked up at her sister. “So, what're you doing?”  
“Studying this sarcophagus,” Bontu said. She looked at it pointedly, nodding at the locust god, who waved. “It's an enchantment keeping our last sibling from waking. If I can break it...”  
“Then bozz will be back,” the locust god interjected. “That'z why I wanted you here, Hazoret. You've alwayz had a way of helping with theze thingz.”  
Hazoret nodded, turning to the sarcophagus and putting an arm around Bontu. “What have you figured out so far?”  
“I think that it's coded to release when all eight of us are here,” Bontu began. “But who knows how long that will take.”

The scorpion god waited in a grove. Rhonas waited at the edge, then approached, staying out of striking distance. “It's okay,” the scorpion god said. “I won't hurt you.” They frowned. “Not again.”  
Rhonas fingered his staff. “I want to trust you,” he began, “but after last time, I'm not sure.” He shook his head.  
“I know,” they said. “I'm sorry.”  
Rhonas nodded. “I saw you with Oketra and Kefnet.”  
“She doesn't want to leave me alone,” the scorpion god said simply. “It's easier to just let her have her way.”  
Rhonas cracked a grin. He was taller than the scorpion god, here. His cobra hood flared out a little, then settled in a relaxed half-fold, and he let his hand drop from his staff. “Yes. Sometimes she just keeps pushing until you do something, and then you do it, and wonder why you didn't sooner.”  
The scorpion god smiled. “Something like that.”  
“I heard they were looking for Hazoret?”  
“Yes. She found Oketra first, then me; from what I understand, she was trying to keep certain things about your Hours a secret until Oketra remembered, but that didn't last.” The scorpion god tilted their head. “I think she was feeling guilty and ashamed about certain things.”  
Rhonas frowned. “Her Trial, I'd bet.” Then he sighed. “But you weren't around for that. After Bolas came, he made us test our people. I'm not sure why. We were taught that their deaths would, if Glorified, place them in a monumental afterlife.” He gestured at the forest. “They're not here. And our sister, Hazoret... None survived her trial, for the reward for success was death.”  
The scorpion god shook their head. “That sounds horrid. I'm sorry you all had to go through that.”  
Rhonas nodded. “Why are you so sad?”  
The scorpion god blinked. “What?”  
“You're quiet,” Rhonas said. “Your tone is down. That's not how I remember you when we were alive. Why are you sad?”  
“Oh,” the scorpion god said. They looked away. “I know what my body is doing.”  
Rhonas thought for a moment. Then he clapped the scorpion god on the shoulder. “It's not you then, is it? Let's go find our siblings, and maybe we can cheer you up.”  
The scorpion god looked at him.  
“Does that sound good?” Rhonas added.  
“Yes,” the scorpion god said. “Just... unexpected.”  
Rhonas laughed. “Good! Maybe next time we fight I'll be able to win, if I can surprise you.”

“Is there something weird about this forest?” Oketra asked.  
Kefnet rolled his eyes. “Of course there is. It's bigger than us. That means it's been here a long time. But I haven't seen it before.”  
“I think it's too quiet,” Oketra said. “Like we're being hunted...”  
Kefnet let the conversation lapse into silence. He listened. There was not even a breeze. “Or like there's nothing else here,” he suggested. “I haven't seen any life other than the trees and grass. No insects, no flowers, no birds, reptiles, or mammals... There's not even any microbial life in the ponds that I've been able to detect. Our life signals must shine like beacons...”  
Oketra nodded. Oketra paused. “Microbial?”  
“Very small,” Kefnet translated. “I got it from...” He hesitated. “Somewhere. I don't know, actually...”  
“Are you sure you didn't come up with it yourself?”  
“Positive.” Kefnet nodded, agitated. “I always give credit to my scholars, even if no one but me will see it. It's how it _works._ If I don't remember where it's from, then it's mine, or...”  
“Or?” Oketra prompted.  
“It's from before,” Kefnet muttered cagily. “That time I can't remember.”  
Oketra waited. Finally she said, “I can't remember it either. Hazoret said Bontu restored her memory, though.”  
“Bontu?” Kefnet furrowed his brow. Then he shook his head. “Anyway, speaking of our wayward sister, we're almost there.” He shook his staff, and the light shivered.  
The two gods were quiet, and they could hear voices through the trees. “That's her!” Oketra said, and she ran into the clearing.  
Kefnet cursed, then ran after her.

“No one's walked here in years,” the scorpion god said. “If you look...”  
“You can see where the grass is bent,” Rhonas agreed. “Meaning that's where they've walked. Good thinking.”  
The scorpion god smiled. “I'd forgotten how positive you are about these things.”  
“We'll have plenty of time to get to know each other again,” Rhonas said, “now that we're dead. After all, how else are we going to spend the time? There's nothing to hunt here. No mortals to protect or guide.” His tongue flicked out. “I don't know how long this will last, but I intend to spend it with my siblings.”  
“Speaking of,” the scorpion god said, “I think I know where they were going.”  
Rhonas raised an eyebrow.  
“Do you remember the scarab god?”  
“Vaguely,” Rhonas said. “I remember they were... our leader, I think. The master tactician. They may have made the sun rise.”  
The scorpion god nodded. “They've been sleeping in a sarcophagus since we got here. I believe that is where our siblings are.”  
“Makes sense. So, you know where this sarcophagus is?”  
The scorpion god nodded again.  
“Then we don't need to follow tracks, do we?” Rhonas frowned. “Wait a second,” he said.  
They could hear voices. They did not sound happy.  
“We're needed,” Rhonas decided, and broke into a run, the scorpion god at his heels. Together, they burst into sunlight.


End file.
